


You'll Always Hit the Spot (Big Shot)

by GrumpyBones



Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M, if you have a grey hair thing and want to sit by me, negative amounts of drama, that'd be cool
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-22
Updated: 2019-03-22
Packaged: 2019-11-27 13:12:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,362
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18195053
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GrumpyBones/pseuds/GrumpyBones
Summary: By the end of their 5 year mission Jim hasn't been carded in over a year, he no longer looks like a member of whatever the current heartthrob boy band is, and yeah -- he's most definitely going grey.But Spock? Oh, well, he doesn't mind.





	You'll Always Hit the Spot (Big Shot)

**Author's Note:**

> Definitely written with Chris Pine's hair in mind, sorry Shat.
> 
> M rating may be overboard? I'd definitely say it isn't NSFW but I also thought it was okay to _write this_ at work? So I'm probably not the best to judge what is and isn't appropriate.
> 
> I'm blaming aoskirk on tumblr for this... unless you like it... then you can blame me.

Difficult day doesn’t truly cover it, Jim thinks to himself, cheek pressed against the too warm to be human chest. They've been having a lot of those, though he tells himself it's better than the monotony of nothing -- _nothing_ creating a whole new meaning for itself in the vastness of space.

At some point he must have begun dragging awkward shapes through the thick stretch of hair which his face is partially buried in. The strands have been parted like a swirling Red Sea, revealing alleyways of green-tinted skin. He continues on, more intently now. It’s hypnotic in a way, especially when combined with the ever-present dull hum of the ship and the faint beat from Spock’s heart he can still make out despite its southern location. For a moment his hand stalls while Kirk presses his torso more firmly against the body under his, curious to see if he can feel it thudding next to his own — 

“You are in critical need of sleep, ashayam. Why do you insist on fighting a losing battle?”

Kirk smiles, pressing his surely reddening face into the soft skin, still so affected by the endearment that has been long used at this point. Of course Spock would feel his heavy eyes, his weary muscles. He forgets sometimes, how accessible his thoughts become with contact. Spock had worried his humanity's natural response would be to contest it, would find the very concept invasive and alarming, despite where his emotional desires resided. But the very opposite had been proven true, as Jim had known would happen. He reveled in the idea of being so wholly known, of being seen as his plenary self by the man he loved, and the bonding process had been, if anything, overwhelmingly simple. But easy and wanted didn't mean it wasn't still a tad jarring at times.

“I've barely seen you this week, love.”

“I would argue that you are not seeing me now,” and if there were anyone else in the room to hear it, then they might miss the undercurrent of chuckle in his stale tone.

“I’ve never known a Vulcan to be passive aggressive. If you're tired of being used as a pillow you only had to say so."

At once Spock’s hand ascends from his shoulder blade, long fingers disappearing into Jim’s hair to hold him in place, Kirk too comfortable to even purport a meager struggle for show.

“Have you known me to speak less than plainly with you?” He asks as his fingers find the point of Kirk’s temple, flooding him with the feeling he only knows as _Spock_. 

For the sake of being contrary, Jim concentrates hard on his memories of a certain conversation pertaining to Vulcans and biology, envisioning them physically flowing from his mind to the tips of green fingers. It's nearly casual enough to feign coincidence when those same fingers slip away to brush through his hair, but they both know better as they sweep along his hairline.

“Oh, I most certainly have," he adds unnecessarily.

“That was quite a long time ago, Jim, much has changed for us since then,” and there's an actual concern in his voice. “Is this a source of distress for you?”

It’s enough to shame Kirk into feeling a scant bit of guilt, his head propping up to look Spock in the eye as if their built-in telepathic lie detector isn't enough.

“I'm just teasing you, k'diwa. Another downside to shacking up with an illogical human,” Spock only _hmmm’s_ at that, knowing that both arguing and agreeing will equally damn him. Though his eyes are smiling as Kirk curls back into his side. “I am far more concerned about the sudden outbreak of grey which you're currently toying with.”

There’s a pause in Spock’s hand, inconsequential if it weren’t for the utter deliberateness of a Vulcan’s actions, before his attention refocuses just above his ear where the pepper has forfeited the biggest expanse of ground.

“I must ask for clarification," though Kirk can feel his lack of confusion. "Another joke?"

"Oh yes, because you'd never be able to pick sarcasm out of lineup."

"Forgive my naivety," and Jim really does snort this time. "I simply do not understand how you could not find this," as Spock combs through the longest of it, pulling it out towards him to mix among the black on his chest, "agreeable on you."

"Agreeable? Now there's a compliment that'd make any girl swoon."

“I find it —”

“This is not the time for ‘fascinating’.”

“ _Enticing_ was going to be my chosen adjective."

“Says the member of a slow-to-age species. You’re set to live out my golden years as gorgeous as ever while we both watch the beauty of my youth wither way,” he jokes, mostly, still hoping Spock won't sense the burn of his cheeks.

“You have actual insecurities about this,” it's said as a statement, fingers digging in deeper to his scalp, sifting through larger sections of hair. “I was not aware.”

“‘Insecurities’ may not be the best choice of word. But you can't deny that I could hardly be mistaken for that Cadet Kirk you were first introduced to."

" _Introduced to_ may not be the best choice of words," and Jim is too busy chuckling to mind being mocked. "You believe that I was under the illusion that you were immortal?"

"God, you're as bad as Bones sometimes," immediately impressed at Spock's ability to wield both offended and proud in the same breath. "Let's just say it's been a less than stellar and rapid transition. Feels like only yesterday that I was living under the ever present banner of ‘The Fleets Youngest Captain,’ and now? I’m halfway to looking like the president of a Parent Teacher Association.”

“If you were the leader of any such organization then I believe that there would be a significant wait list for a committee seat.”

Kirk shifts again to look at his husband, his own smile winning the war, eyes squinting as his cheeks give way.

“Why Mr. Spock, if one were to issue a guess you’d think I ought to be the one with the daddy issues and yet you seem to out do me here." 

The eye roll is as near a miss as James has ever seen.

"Ignoring your alien personality, our very ancestry proves how contented I am for all the ways you are not my father. I am, however,” toying again with that brazen patch of salt, tugging rougher than before, “grateful for all the ways you are a man and no longer an unfledged student.”

Spock’s hand slides down his neck and over his shoulder, squeezing the muscles of his bicep as if citing a reference.

“Is that a beat around way of saying that you're a fan of the grey?” Kissing at the center of Spock’s chest amiss the patch of soft hair. "Does this statement live as hypothesis or theory?”

"It is nothing short of fact, Jim.”

"Surely we cannot simply accept your word as actuality, that is not how one works the method. Where is your stack of evidence, Officer?"

“I would submit that all the evidence you would need is still drying on our abdominals, Sir. Though if necessary I could most likely procure some from the sheets as well."

Leaving his created nest behind Kirk raises to his arms, climbing up Spock’s body until they're face-to-face.

"Such a cursory portfolio of data to submit, I’m not sure I’d even qualify it for peer review at this stage. I expect more than such a tenuous report from the Chief Science Officer of Starfleet's flagship.”

Spock hands run up his flanks and he fights against the tickle as they run under his arms, up to cup his jaw lines, fingers skimming over his cheekbones until they're back to that tract of grey above his ear. 

“I apologize. You are aware that is it always my goal to be fastidious,” leaning in, that green flush already taking over the skin of his throat and cheeks. “Would you indulge me one more trial? For the sake of thoroughness," wetted lips brushing so lightly against his own, “Captain?”

**Author's Note:**

> Not sorry.
> 
> Till next time you can find me at [@grumpybonsey](http://grumpybonesey.tumblr.com/) on Tumblr


End file.
